


The Cavalry

by amazingjemma



Series: The Cavalry and The Dead [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fitzsimmons are married, Fitzsimmons as Philinda, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Mention of blood, Minor Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:28:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8506063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingjemma/pseuds/amazingjemma
Summary: Not all heroes have superpowers. Some heroes have bravery in their bones, fire in their eyes and courage in their soul. Or, it takes one woman to save thirty men but lose herself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys full disclosure this is really heavy stuff so read it on your risk. Inspired by "Melinda" and Philinda :')  
> This is a part of a series so I'm sure I'll write something else in this verse ;)

Usually, their morning routine started with two cups of strong coffee to wake themselves up after a long, deep sleep.  However, when they had a mission, their rules were quite different – shower first, breakfast second. Originally it was Jemma Simmons' idea, who wasn't a fan of wasting too much water. Plus, she enjoyed the effect of the cold shower and her husband's presence in the morning, wet and naked, right in front of her.

 

Today's mission was far from dangerous. There was no Caucasus undercover assignment with no extraction, nor pretending to be some evil sociopath hunter for the latest treasures. Today, they and their team were just a helpline, civil agents who want to protect people from that one guy who’s caused too much trouble.

 

A pair of warm hands settling on her hips stirred her out of her thoughts and she turns around smiling, her eyes opening to greet his bright ones.

 

“Took you too long,” Jemma whispered, looping her arms around Fitz's neck. He smirked, stepping under the chilly water.

 

“Well, somebody should make the bed, right? And since you sneaked first...”

 

“Oh, don't spin that on me!”

 

Jemma's laugh was the best sound Fitz has ever heard. It's been almost a year and a half since they got married, and he still couldn’t get used to _that:_ her laugh, her honey hazel eyes studying him every time he was reading the newspaper, waking up to kisses on his neck, and their morning routine before every mission.

 

“Fitz.”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re staring.”

 

Fitz smiled sheepishly and sighed, leaning down. “I just can't stop admiring your beauty.”

 

“Ugh, Fitz.”

 

He remembered her the way she is right now: so young, beautiful, sometimes grumpy, but _his._ He still couldn't believe that she said, _“yes,”_ after that one mission where he had almost lost her. Sometimes he wondered what he would’ve done if that happened. ~~~~

 

“Today is going to be okay, right?” Jemma whispered, laying her head in the crook of his neck, and enjoying the way his arms wrap around her tiny figure.

 

“Yeah. We'll make it. Like we always do.” His soft voice was everything she needed and Jemma smiled, feeling a little bit more confident. He's right. It's not their first field mission, and they certainly have handled worse. “I'm just going to ask you to be a little more careful.”

 

“I _am_ careful!” Jemma snapped and disentangled herself to look at her husband, who was rather disappointed she pulled away. “And it's not _my_ fault you were being distractive on comms.”

 

“Excuse me? What did I do wrong?” Fitz stared at her dumbfounded.

 

“Ah, right, so you’re saying that it wasn't you who was talking to me through comms two weeks ago in Miami about the things you wanted to do to me when I got back?”

 

A smug smile formed on Fitz's lips and Jemma scoffed, turning away from him to finally start showering. Fitz could swear he heard _you are completely spoiled, Leopold Fitz_ but he remained silent, focusing on more important things.

 

* * *

While sippingher coffee, Jemma was studying the file Maria Hill had sent them by e-mail. The mission was quite easy. Nothing serious, and it didn’t involve undercover work. Jemma hated working undercover, unlike her husband.

 

“What's up?”

 

Turning her head, Jemma noticed that Fitz already had his work suit on. Sometimes seeing him wearing that suit reminded Jemma of their wedding. He had looked hot as hell on that day, so hot it made her forget her own vows.

 

“Jemma, now _you are staring_ ,” Fitz teased, taking her cup of coffee from her grasp.

 

“What is it about?” he asked, nodding at the document Jemma was reading.

 

“Oh,” Simmons says after a moment, shaking herself out of her daze. “Um, this is Adrian Collins, fifteen years old and he grew up in an orphanage. According to his friends, he was very shy and insecure, unless he started going out at night.”

 

“Let me guess, he turned out evil and shady,” Fitz muttered, making himself a cup of coffee. “Another uninteresting case from Hill, I suppose.”

 

“Well, um, the document says Adrian can manipulate people,” Jemma shrugged, smiling bitterly.

 

“Anyone can manipulate people. You, for example -”

 

An “ugh, Fitz” and an eye roll from her made him chuckle.

 

“Well, this is still different. He made his friend jump out of a window! They even said they saw something that looked like black smoke. Perhaps he's paralyzing them and makes the do what he wants.” Jemma sighed heavily and grasped the steamy mug with her hands, staring (down) at the photograph of the boy.

 

Jemma was an expert in reading people and their emotions. She could easily tell when her husband was lying or hiding something away from her. Looking at the photo of Adrian, she saw nothing but pain, fury, and darkness in his green eyes. He was just a boy. Someone who wasn't prepared to deal with the weight that was placed on his shoulders. She felt sorry for him. But she already knew that that it would be hard to make him talk and change his mind.

 

“It's so sad, isn't it? Having powers not knowing how to use them?” Jemma sighed and glanced at Fitz, who sat in front of her. “If I had superpowers, I'd have gone insane.”

 

“Being badass and beautiful doesn't stress you out, though,” he commented and Jemma blushed slightly. “You don't have to worry about today, Jem. It's just negotiations. And we both know you are our best option in this type of work. I suck at Arabic.”

 

Simmons grinned and put away her empty and clean mug, collecting the papers. “I appreciate your flirt, but we really should hurry up. Hill won't forgive us if we're late. Again.”

 

“I had important things to do!” Fitz yelled, catching Jemma’s raised eyebrows as she turns around. “And don't pretend you didn't like it!”

 

* * *

 

Jemma stepped out of the car, examining the surroundings of what's supposed to be the shopping district. Citizens were in a hurry, glancing at them and speaking in their mother tongue, a language Jemma could understand fluently. She studied Arabic back at SHIELD academy when she was training as op agent. She especially enjoyed taunting Fitz because of it, being able to speak a few languages at the same time.

 

“Calm before the storm,” Fitz muttered, approaching Simmons. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned around, scoping out the place. “I'm going to check the perimeter. You okay here?”

 

“Don't worry mate, we've got this,” a voice intruded and Fitz nodded to his friend and fellow field agent, Lance Hunter. “Make sure the civilians will be safe. Something tells me there's going to be a bloody mess.”

 

Jemma cringed but remained silent. She didn't want this mission to end up with any of them in danger. They've had enough of that. They nearly lost Hunter's wife Bobbi when she tried to obtain important information and was tortured. Jemma was made when she was undercover in HYDRA; luckily, Bobbi managed to safe her. They’ve had to deal with an enormous amount of pain, none of which Simmons wanted to experience today.

 

“I'll be back soon,” Fitz's voice called out to her. “Be safe, yeah?”

 

“You too,” Jemma said, grabbing him into an embrace, aching for physical contact. Fitz hugged her back briefly, and stepped back to place a kiss on her forehead.

 

“Don't forget to turn on your comms.” Her husband grumbled and did what he was told, before turning and leaving his teammates behind. Jemma returned her attention to the perimeter, searching for their target.

 

“How good is your Arabic, Hunter?”

 

“As bad as it can be, even worse,” he replied almost instantly. “Why?”

 

“Oh, nothing. Just curious. I thought you were the languages guy.”

 

“Nah, that's more Bobbi's field. Did you know that she knows four languages? Including Russian?”

 

“Da, konechno,*” Jemma replied without hesitation and Lance grimaced. His face expression made Jemma laugh, and Hunter just rolled his eyes, muttering something that sounded like “ _these beasts.”_

 

“Uh, guys, we have a bit of a problem,” Fitz's voice crackled in their ears, distracting them from their small talk. “We're dealing with their government. I need an opinion or two.”

 

“Let them know this mission is classified,” Hunter says in a serious tone. Jemma wonders how he does that: switching from a joking mood to a serious one in no time at all. “But that we need as many people as we can get. Our group isn’t enough.”

 

“Jemma?”

 

“We need allies. Go ahead. Don't tell them everything, though. The mission is still classified.”

 

“Copy that.”

 

Jemma sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly feeling very anxious about their supposedly safe mission. She feels as if something is going to happen sooner or later, and she hates the unknown. This is how their missions usually go – their plans crumble like a house of cards and there's no one who would help them. Despite having thirty strong and trained agents, they still need some kind of backup who would help them if something goes wrong.

 

“I'm not feeling well,” Jemma says out loud and Hunter looks at her with wide eyes.

 

“Are you...”

 

“No, Hunter. I'm not pregnant.” Jemma said, rolling her eyes. She does, however, smile a bit at the thought of having a baby. But with the way their jobs are, this is something less likely to happen in the near future. “I don't feel like we're doing something right. Look at these people. They all have families. Maybe pets. Something that makes them return home every day. And if something goes wrong...”

 

“Hey, it's gonna be okay,” Lance assures, placing his hands on her shoulders. “It's not Paris, okay? What happened there... it wasn't your fault. Or Fitz's fault. It was something we weren’t expecting.”

 

“Bobbi nearly died, Hunter,” Simmons whispers. “And that psychopath is probably still out there!”

 

“We'll deal with that later. You did what you had to do. We didn't know there were people in that building. And I promise to kill that son of a bitch with my bare hands, but for right now we have something else to focus on.”

 

“But what if...”

 

“If something goes wrong, we'll send the cavalry,” Hunter smiles and pats her shoulders. “Now, where's Fitz? I'm tired of waiting.”

 

“He's probably still gaining allies. He excels at his job, okay?”

 

“Whoa, easy there tiger, I have nothing against your husband!”

 

Jemma ignores Hunter and decides to talk to anyone who may have seen the suspect. Just like she expected, no one could tell her what she wanted – some of them just shrugged or even tried to ask _her_ questions, instead of giving information. Jemma and her team don’t stand a chance of getting into the building without proper allowance. The boy they are searching for is a ghost – nowhere to be seen or found.

 

When Jemma comes back, there are military forces armed with their equipment. Even Fitz and Hunter had their tactical gear on, studying a map.

 

“What’s going on here?” Jemma asks, puzzled, but quickly approaches her team members and bends down to have a look at the map. There are specific places marked in red marker with notes in the margins. Jemma takes a deep breath and grabs Fitz’s hand.

 

“Our target has been hiding in Bahrain this whole time,” Fitz explained, and Jemma reaches down to entwine her hand in his. “He hid in different houses or cafes; anywhere he could be treated as a normal person. But something went wrong and he had to find another place to stay. “This is where he was seen last time,” he continued, pointing a finger at the dot on the map. “This is exactly where we are. If the policemen were right, he stayed in this building.”

 

“We’re going to raid each floor,” Hunter added whilst checking the bullets in his gun. “If he’s here, we won’t be delicate. This boy is out of control. Whether we’re ending this here or he keeps killing people.”

 

Jemma’s heart sunk. She didn’t want this to be a ‘search and destroy’ mission. They were only supposed to be the helpline team. That meant no guns, no threats and no rude interrogation techniques.

 

Seeing Fitz getting ready made her blood run cold and she gripped his hand tighter, earning a glance from her husband.

 

“What’s wrong?” His voice was strong but soothing, his blue eyes staring at her in confusion. “Jemma, what is it?”

 

“Are you sure they need you?” Jemma’s own voice was surprisingly shaken. She moved closer to Fitz. “This isn’t right. It’s not a ‘fix it’ situation, Fitz.”

 

Just when Fitz opened his mouth to disagree, Hunter put a hand on his shoulder, looking more serious than Fitz had ever seen him in his life. “Jemma’s right. We need you on comms, so you two stay in the van, and the rest of us will get this job done.”

 

Without any more words, Hunter gathers their team and explains the situation, leaving Jemma and Fitz alone. This is where they’re supposed to call in for additional help. This is where they have to weigh pros and cons and make one decision, together, as a team. But current circumstances break all the rules S.H.I.E.L.D. agents have. They’re going inside the time-bomb, looking for another time bomb, ready to blow up the whole building, including people who happen to be nearby.

 

Jemma assesses the situation and catches Hunter’s glances. He smiles reassuringly, but she notices the way he rotates his wedding ring. Jemma’s heart sinks. She doesn’t feel or notice Fitz taking her hand again and forcing her to get back to the SUV.

 

“We won’t be able to see them thanks to the lack of cameras, but we still have audio, which is good,” Fitz mutters and passes little earbud to Jemma.

 

“I could’ve gone with them,” Simmons says, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “They don’t know anything about interrogations. If Adrian is unstable…”

 

“We’ll think about that later. First things first, we have to find him in this damn stone box.”

 

Jemma has always admired her husband’s equanimity and ability to focus on tasks based on their importance. It only takes him a few seconds to calm down in order to make the right decision. She still doesn’t know how to do that herself, so she relies on Fitz’s instinct. Without a word she turns around to make sure the door to the vehicle is locked. They have to be prepared for anything. Even if there are armed forces of Bahraini outside their SUV, that doesn’t mean they will be able to stop the boy S.H.I.E.L.D. is looking for.

 

Hunter’s voice makes Jemma shiver and she returns her attention to the computer, the little red dots on the screen moving around slowly.

 

“ _No sign of the target. First and third floors are empty. Going up.”_

 

“Copy that.” Fitz glances at Jemma and she nods. They’re doing the right thing. It’s now or never.

 

“Don’t make contact with Adrian,” Jemma adds. “We don’t know exactly what his powers entail. Keep your distance at all times.”

 

_“Copy that. Fifth floor is clear. We’re on our way to the seventh floor. Fitz, we need backup.”_

 

Without hesitation Jemma opens the door and tells armed forces to raid the building. Fitz glances at her briefly and grins – she always knows what she’s doing and is actually a very good boss figure. Sometimes Fitz thinks that maybe his wife would have been an amazing Director, but still respects her decision to do what she’s trained to.

 

“Maybe I should go too,” she says quietly, closing the door. She sighs and closes her eyes. “I know what to do, Fitz. It’s not like I’m afraid of him or anything.”

 

“No one says you’re afraid, Jem. But I need you here with me. Hunter knows what he’s doing. Our team may be new at this ‘people with powers’ hunt, but they’re getting better at it. It’s going to be alright.” He takes Jemma’s hand and squeezes it softly, trying to cover up the sudden panic in his voice. He’s not confident about what he just said, but it could be worse. “All we need to do is talk to him and maybe try to persuade to join our…”

 

There’s a shriek which makes Fitz stop his train of thought. Jemma immediately calls for Hunter.

 

_“We’re under attack, I repeat, we are under attack!”_

 

“Where are you, Hunter? Do you see the target?” Jemma tries to console Hunter while Fitz grabs their guns from behind and passes one to Jemma.

 

“ _No sign of a target, it’s something within, we can’t see anything.”_ Hunter is panting and Jemma tenses. _“What kind of powers does Adrian have?”_

 

“He can manipulate you, your fears, and make you hallucinate,” Simmons lists as she checks the gun Fitz gave her. “Do not touch him. I repeat, do not touch him, do you copy?”

 

There is a silence at the end of the line, followed by the clanking of a gun on the cold stone floor. Static fills both Jemma and Fitz’s ears and they throw away their earbuds. They exchange a worried look and Fitz slowly reaches for his phone, blindly dialing a long memorized number.

 

“Sir? We have a problem.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“I understand, Sir. But this building has thirty of our agents, they are not replying, and… what do you mean stand down? Are you… sir, forgive me for saying this, but you’re making a huge mistake… no, no I get it. Of course. We’ll wait. Thank you.”

 

“What did he say?” Jemma worries her lip and Fitz shrugs, glancing at her briefly.

 

“He said to wait for the backup. They’ll be here in ten minutes.”

 

“We don’t have ten minutes!” Jemma explodes. “They’re trapped there, Fitz. We can’t wait. There is something… something terrible going on inside. What if they’re all dead? We can’t waste anymore time!”

 

“What are you trying to say?”

 

She doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Send me in!”

 

Fitz looks at her as if she’s grown a second head. “No. No fucking way, Jemma. You’re staying here.”

 

“I was prepared for this and I know what to do!” Jemma pleads and earns another death glare from her husband. “We can’t just sit here, waiting for backup to arrive. It’ll be too late, Fitz. What would _you_ do if I was in there?”

 

Fitz feels his heart tighten when he looks at her. His beautiful, smart, brave wife once again wants to save everyone she loves. He knows what she’s capable of, they’ve been through so much worse than this, but Fitz’s bad feeling doesn’t want Jemma to let her go to that building. She’s disobeying the rules, and this means only thing – she’ll put not everyone, but first and foremost herself under the danger.

 

“We can’t let it bury them alive, Leo.” Fitz flinches at his real name and clenches his jaw. He’s never seen her so serious. “I can do this. It’s nothing. I’ll be on comms. We have to save them.”

 

Just when Fitz opens his mouth to ask her to find another solution, they hear the sirens from the distance and Fitz swears. “Go. But Jemma… come back to me.”

 

Jemma smiles and leans forward to peck her husband on the lips. He shudders under her touch, and tries to deepen the kiss but Jemma pulls back and leaves their van. Running away, she hears Fitz trying to communicate with the natives in basic English about what’s happening. ~~~~

 

Simmons assesses the situation and jumps onto the first floor window, climbing higher and higher with each leap. The last time they heard from Hunter, they were on the seventh floor. Hanging from the balcony railing like a monkey, Jemma quickly evaluates the situation and calculates the possibility of rough fall. But then she notices a little indentation under the window and breaking the glass, and climbs in gracefully, only to face a man she never seen before.

 

Jemma quickly grabs his hand and turns around, throwing him out of the window. The number on the wall says it’s only the fifth floor and with a slight groan Simmons rushes to the seventh floor.

 

“Fitz, I made to the seventh floor. Do you copy?”

 

There’s an annoying white noise in her earbud and Jemma rolls her eyes, grabbing her gun. Turning the safety off, she checks each of the four smaller rooms within the bigger room. When she makes it to the fourth door, she can’t help but let out a relieved sigh.

 

“Hunter. Thank God I found you! C’mon, we have to finish what we started. Have you found Adrian?”

 

Hunter turns around silently, and Jemma tenses, gripping her gun closer to her chest. This isn’t the Hunter she knows. This Hunter is some sick version of the man Simmons knows. His eyes are cold, his lips are tense and there’s a trickle of blood on the left side of the face.

 

“Hunter?” Jemma’s voice is weak and she immediately steps back when he takes one step closer. “It’s me, Simmons. Do you hear me?”

 

Hunter stops and furrows his eyebrows, cocking head to one side. “I know you.”

 

Jemma smiles a little, again feeling relieved. “Well, of course you do. You were Leo’s best man in our wedding…”

 

“You tried to kill my wife,” Hunter interrupts and levels his gun up. “Her name was Barbara. Bobbi, for short. Now I finally have the opportunity to get my revenge.”

 

It takes half a second to Jemma to dodge away from the bullet. She quickly turns to run up the stairs to the eighth floor. She hears Hunter’s footsteps but keeps running, trying to create a diversion in order to slow him down. On her way up she is greeted with other men who try to kill her – no one recognizes her, they just keep saying something about revenge. When Jemma makes it to the tenth floor, she’s breathing heavily and leans against the door, covering her mouth with her palm.

 

She feels tears starting to form in her eyes and she closes them tightly, thinking back to the van down there and Fitz who’s waiting for her. She feels like she’s a mouse running away from the evil and hungry cats, trying to save herself. She briefly remembers Adrian’s case. He can manipulate people. Hunter probably thought that she was Grant Ward – that killer who tried to kill Bobbi.

 

There is no doubt that Adrian’s superpowers are real. Otherwise, would Hunter try to kill his friend? For the first time in her life, Jemma’s truly scared. She can feel her heart beating like a hammer in her chest and she whimpers. This isn’t exactly what she wanted for today. They were only supposed to be the helpline. Just like the theory about Adrian wanting to give in and accept S.H.I.E.L.D.’s help, not everything is as it appears to be at first.

 

Jemma takes a few more deep breaths and opens her eyes, only to find a handsome young boy looking at her curiously. His blue eyes are like sharp icicles, trying to burn a hole in her body. For his age he’s quite tall but slim; he seems like an absolutely harmless boy. Jemma’s heart aches when she’s looking at him. When she opens(her mouth to ask Adrian to stop, he shuts her up instantly with the light movement of hand.

 

“You’ve caused too much trouble already, I don’t wanna hear anything.” His voice is cold; the voice of a serial killer. “I’m tired of this game. I’m sick of you chasing me.”

 

Adrian moves forward and Jemma feels like his prey. He has enough power to kill her with the wave of his hand, so it’s better to obey him and play the game using his rules.

 

“Your friends told me everything,” he says and turns around to point at the crowd of agents surrounding her. They’re all pointing their gun at Simmons; their eyes are bloodshot and cold. Jemma meets Hunter’s gaze again and swallows. “Especially this one. He’s so pathetic. But also interesting. His desire to avenge is fascinating, isn’t it?” Adrian laughs harshly and Jemma licks her lips.

 

“You’re wrong,” she says softly, catching the boy’s eyes again. “We’re here to help you, not harm you. We can… we can help you to understand. We can try to sooth your pain…”

 

“Sooth my pain?” Adrian snaps. “You know nothing about it! None of you! You have no idea what I had to go through! What I had to do in order to stay alive when people like you tried to put me down, like a fucking dog!”

 

Jemma closes her eyes just to avoid seeing the pain and heartache in Adrian’s eyes. She feels sorry for him and for what he’s had to experience.

 

“You’re right, Adrian.” Jemma’s voice is trembling but she tries her best to sound confident and convincing. “But I promise you...I promise you with my life we will help you. You won’t feel any more pain. You’ll be free of it, I swear. Just let us help.”

 

“No more pain?” the boy chuckles. “Oh, Agents Simmons, you don’t understand. You see, I got used to it. I want more pain. I want _you_ to feel the pain I feel every damn day.”

 

With each and every word he moves towards her and there’s nowhere Jemma can escape to. She’s surrounded by thirty agents with guns pointed at her, and the boy appearing to be angel-like is reaching out for her, a few centimeters away from touching her shoulder. She’s trapped.

 

It happens when she closes her eyes – she feels something touching her hand and a loud noise making her open her eyes just to realize that she’s even more screwed than before. She sees Fitz stumble into the room, but when he opens his mouth to say something to her, a series of shots fill the air instead. Moments later, her husband’s white shirt is colored in a deep red color. He mutters, “ _Jemma_ ,” and falls to his knees, blood beginning to seep out of his mouth.

 

The loud screech falling from Jemma’s lips sound anything but human, almost animal-like. Jemma feels as if her soul is slowly leaving her body. She hurries over to Fitz and falls beside him, taking his face in her hands, begging him to look at her and to breath, _just breath_. His blood leaves stains on her hands, her face, and her clothes, and she’s convinced this is all her fault. It’s been always her. Convincing him to be reckless, to take missions they aren’t prepared, to sacrifice their own life to save the one that means the most to them.

 

“Come back to me… Leo, p-please, co-come back…,” Jemma whispers between sobs and cuddles him in her lap. She leans down and kisses his bloody lips just to find he’s not breathing. Her cries intensify but at this point she doesn’t care anymore.

 

“What does it feel like, Agent Simmons?” She hears Adrian’s voice and a cold shiver runs down her spine. She blinks a few times only to find that Fitz isn’t lying lifeless in her lap; it was all just an illusion. But her hands are still covered in blood and she can still sense the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. She chokes on her breath and crawls away to the other side of the wall. She feels a sharp pain in her collarbone and when her fingers find the open wound, she hisses from the pain. She can also feel pain just under her ribs, pulsating and slowing her down. There are a few agents lying on the floor covered in blood, and Jemma covers her mouth with her palm, choking on a sob. “Do you feel it? Do you feel the pain I’ve gotten used to? Because this is what it feels like… and I can’t get enough of it.”

 

“Stop,” Jemma whispers and shakes her head, refusing to look at him. “Please, stop. You don’t have to do this…”

 

“But what if I want to?”

 

Jemma purses her lips and closes her eyes, grabbing the gun at the back of her jeans. She doesn’t want to do this, but this is what she _has_ to do. She has to protect her team, and her _husband_ , because if he doesn’t live – well, does life have a meaning after all?

 

She can now feel Adrian’s breathing on her face and she whispers, “I’m so sorry.” Three loud shots ring in the air and Jemma opens her eyes to find Adrian’s blue eyes staring at her with so much pain, and anger, and hate that she can’t help but let the tears stream down her cheeks.

* * *

When they hear the first cry of pain, Fitz immediately springs into action, moving fast toward the building. He can deal with Jemma crying– after all, they never had a dry eye during their wedding day. But hearing Jemma’s cries of pain was different - it sent him right into the action, regardless of the danger involved.

 

They check every floor; every time Fitz sees blood, his heart clenches. The thought of his wife being hurt drives him insane. Of course, they knew what they were signing up for; if it wasn’t for Jemma, Fitz would never become a field agent. Her sense of adventure and desire to save people possessed her, and she dragged him down with her. Fitz, being as good a friend as he is, never said anything. But now, seeing the consequences, he thinks that maybe he had to do something to stop her.

 

They’re almost on the seventh floor when they hear gunshots. His blood runs cold and he runs up the stairs, shouting orders to the other agents. The scene he’s facing when he enters the room leaves him breathless. His Jemma, all covered in blood, is staring blankly in front of her while cuddling Adrian’s body on her lap. Fitz quickly makes sure the medical group takes care of the other agents. He briefly meets Hunter’s gaze and nods. They’ll talk about that later.

 

Jemma doesn’t say anything even when they get outside. Fitz’s strong arms immediately wrap around Jemma’s cold and ruined body. As other agents pass by, he faintly hears them talk.

 

_“What the hell happened? Do you remember anything?”_

 

_“No idea. It was like a blackout. My mind went black… how did we make it?”_

 

_“I guess they sent in the cavalry, eventually.”_

 

Fitz’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he focuses on his wife. He softly presses her to the nearest wall and gently cups her face. “Jem? Jemma, hey. It’s over.”

 

His voice triggers her whimpers and she shook her head, looking anywhere but Fitz. “No… he couldn’t… he didn’t know…”

 

“It’s okay, Jemma,” Fitz whispers and she finally looks at him. Her eyes are foggy as if she can’t even see him. “You have to let him go. It was his choice. Let the boy go, Jemma.”

 

He holds her face like this for a few more seconds and when she whimpers something that sounds like an agreement, he pulls her close, feeling her body trembling with tears.

 

Jemma holds onto him for dear life, breathing in his scent and yet again craving that physical contact. He in turn kisses the top of her head and allows her to cry out all her tears on his shoulder.

* * *

 

The morning routine has changed completely. Jemma barely sleeps at night and doesn’t leave their bed during the day, choosing to stare up at the ceiling. She doesn’t greet him with a kiss anymore. Instead, she quickly changes her clothes and goes to take a shower, spending almost an hour just standing under the water. Fitz makes her favorite tea, the way she takes it, but she doesn’t even touch her mug, leaving the steaming drink to cool down.

 

When she finally sleeps at night, Fitz wakes up many times due to her screams. She lets him hold her close, focusing on the smell of his cologne and the sound of his sleepy voice. Jemma wants to apologize - for a lot of things - but she can’t find the voice to speak. When her cries subside, she falls back to sleep in her husband’s arms. Whenever he moves she shudders, afraid as hell that he's going to disappear or, what is worse, leave.

 

But it’s not him who decides to leave. When she receives the reward for bravery and the attached document, she makes up her mind. It’s yet another silent morning. Fitz is in the shower and Jemma is in the kitchen, staring blankly at the paper. She doesn’t even notice her husband come up behind her, laying his hands on her shoulders. The feels instantly remind her of Adrian, the boy who never should’ve died, and she winces violently, causing Fitz to immediately remove them. ~~~~

 

She moves away from him, and he looks at the document she had left on the table. When he looks at the document in his hands, he isn’t surprised at what it says.

 

“Fitz.”

 

He turns around to find Jemma, fully clothed in her dark jeans and simple grey t-shirt. She looks exhausted. She looks like a ghost.

 

“What is it, Jem?”

 

“I want to… I want to take a break,” she says weakly, almost expecting him to stop her from continuing. He doesn’t. “I want to visit my mum and dad, spend some time there, and…”

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

Jemma shuts her mouth and raises her eyebrows. She wasn’t expecting this response from him. Knowing her husband, he’d ask if he can join her.

 

“You… you’re okay with that?”

 

Fitz sighs. “I’ll agree to anything that will make you feel better, Jem. If you want to leave, okay. But please text me when you land, okay?”

 

Jemma feels tears forming in her eyes and she just nods, feeling the urge to lay down right there and stop functioning. Fitz took careful steps towards her, and she lets him embrace her, feeling the warmth of his body for the last time.

 

“I’m sorry,” she cries.” I’m so sorry, Fitz…”

 

“Sshh, it’s okay. It’s okay, love. I know.”

 

Fitz can’t sleep properly that night until he receives her simple but reassuring, _I’m home._

 

He thinks back to that day when they got married – when Jemma Simmons was all sunshine and rainbows, smiling non-stop and laughing beautifully. But those memories are quickly swept away by darker ones - Jemma wearing his hoodies, never leaving their bed and refusing to eat everything that might remind her of blood. There’s a huge gap between these two women, but Leo Fitz loves both of them. Still.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I'm sorry if you cried D: (I did cry a lot when I was writing it btw.)  
> Kudos to Fitz_Like_A_Jem for being my wonderful beta <3  
> Please leave kudos and a comment <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I'm sorry if you cried D: (I did cry a lot when I was writing it btw.)  
> Kudos to Fitz_Like_A_Jem for being my wonderful beta <3  
> Please leave kudos and a comment <3
> 
> *Da, konechno means Yes, of course


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